Jack Sparrow Is Not a Pervy Hobbit Fancier
by HardlyFatal
Summary: PotCLotR crossover. Depraved as he was, still he'd never sunk so low pardon the phrase as to debauch a midget. COMPLETE


**Jack Sparrow Is Not a Pervy Hobbit Fancier**

Jack opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a little man hopping in agitation before him, holding what had to be the single largest black pearl in existence.

"Marty?" Jack rasped, passing his hand over his eyes in defense against the brutal rays of the hateful, thrice-bedamned sun. "What are you doing here? Put you off the ship too, did they, mate?"

The tiny man stopped hopping.

"I'm not Marty," he said. "I'm Pippin, and I don't know where we are."

With a heartfelt sigh, Jack looked again, and saw that instead of laying on the powdery white sand of the island where he'd been stranded with Elizabeth Swann— site of recent months' most recurring nightmare-- he was in a large, windowless room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were all stark white, and for all that there wasn't even a stub of a candle present, it was as brightly lit as if it were noontime.

"That makes two of us," he said, and slowly got to his feet. "D'you s'pose we're dead?"

Pippin thought a moment. "I don't remember dying," he said at last.

"Nor I," replied Jack. "Therefore, it must be some other explanation. What were you doing just prior to appearing here?"

'I had just stolen the palantir from Gandalf," Pippin said, head hanging so low in shame his nose almost touched the enormous pearl in his tiny mitts. "Then there was a bright flash, and the sensation of flying, and I think I blacked out. When I woke up, I was here, with you."

"Hm," pondered Jack. "And I was betwixt the shapely thighs of Tortuga's most nubile and talented beldame, drunk as a lord and very nearly to the moment of bliss." His close-lipped, close-eyed smile was more lecherous than thoughtful as he added, "Perhaps… hm, they don't call it _la petite morte_ for nothing."

When he looked once more to his diminutive companion, he saw that wee Pippin was looking more disgusted than entertained.

"Ah, no matter," he said hastily. "So, how to return to our respective former and vastly more preferable locations?"

"Well, I got here by looking into the palantir," Pippin said, staring down at the pearl grasped in his trembling hands. "I'm going to try it again, see if it will work to bring me back."

"Wait, my small friend, wait," Jack interrupted with his most ingratiating, golden-twinkly smile. "If you've not noticed, I've no one here with whom to replicate what I was doing."

"Oh, no," Pippin retorted, and scuttled back a few paces. "If you think I'm going to— no. Never. Bad enough the elves have a pervy Hobbit fancy… and Merry will kill you if you try anything…"

Jack blinked. Depraved as he was, still he'd never sunk so low (pardon the phrase) as to debauch a midget. "No, lad, no. You misunderstand me. I'm proposing no more than just a glimpse into your fine bauble, there." His smile this time was meant to reassure more than charm.

It appeared to do both. "Oh, that's fine, then!" Pippin replied, and beckoned him close. "Good luck!"

Jack nodded. "And to you, mate," he muttered, and turned his gaze to the pearl.

Something seemed to flicker within, a ring of flames it looked like, and then came a rushing of black light and white shadow and everything was terribly, terribly cold.

He opened his eyes and found himself jouncing down a dusty, pitted street on the bony shoulder of one Will Turner.

"Will, me lad!" he wheezed, as that shoulder dug painfully into his belly.

Will dumped him to the ground.

"Honestly, Jack!" he exclaimed, and stalked away. "Next time actually die, and save us all the trouble!"

As far as hallucinations went, that hadn't been a bad one. Strange— his dreams tended more toward buxom lasses with deplorable taste in men than curly-headed midgets, so that was a little worrying.

"But, ah, the pearl," Jack reminded himself, and picked himself up from the ground. He hurried after the boy, brushing his trousers off and grinning widely. "I've always been a fool for a winsome black pearl."


End file.
